Master Designer

Here in God's cauldron the pain is real

In this furnace I am undone

Disintegrated by the ordeal

I look for an out but there’s none

Here on the holy potter’s wheel

I understand I am but clay

Wedged by His hands my cruft to reveal

Impurities taken away

The master designer, the artist supreme

Knows what it takes to transform a heart

For this child of dust to become what God deems

He puts together what He takes apart

Until I am His work of art

Here on God’s anvil I am being shaped

But first I must be deformed

From His holy hammer there is no escape 

Being Forged until I am conformed

Here in the sculptor’s atelier

I’m Enduring the chisels blows

What doesn’t conform will be chipped away

Till the image he conceived is exposed

The master designer, the artist supreme

Know what it takes to transform a heart

For this child of dust to become what God deems

It must be first be broken apart

Until I am His work of art

July 14, 2025

Anthony Foster